midnight
till
morning
a strumming
a friendfull
and a moon gaze
train rattle near
sing song
the dire strait
. . . a lovestruck romeo . . . find a convenient street light, step out of the shade, "you and me babe, how about it?"
beat poet travel ing look ing for inspiration seek ing self in the move ment
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Anytime it rains she just feels a lot better
And that’s all that really matters to me
We’ve waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile all the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
There has to be a change I’m sure
Today was just a day fading into another
And that can’t be what a life is for
a.d.
And that’s all that really matters to me
We’ve waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile all the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
There has to be a change I’m sure
Today was just a day fading into another
And that can’t be what a life is for
a.d.
Friday, March 24, 2006
How can I ask love to hold the mystery
When just look at me
It's all push and pull collateral
I don't want to be the one who gets the next surprise
I'll plan it out this time
Though I used to think that things were meant to be
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
It's always changing anyhowI danced a lot of nights until the grass was wet
It wasn't over yet'
Round 'bout 3 a. m. you made a friend
And I followed a lot of vital crazy thoughts
Because it's where the meaning was
And I tried to find it every other way
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is getting better now
But always changing anyhow
But I can turn on the charm
Show them nothing more
Than what I've done before
It's nothing much new
But it'll do
Cause I don't wanna be the one who makes you laugh out loud
I wanna make you proud
And you always said you knew what I could be
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
But always changing anyhow
Time
And the old me
Farewell to the old me
Farewell...
When just look at me
It's all push and pull collateral
I don't want to be the one who gets the next surprise
I'll plan it out this time
Though I used to think that things were meant to be
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
It's always changing anyhowI danced a lot of nights until the grass was wet
It wasn't over yet'
Round 'bout 3 a. m. you made a friend
And I followed a lot of vital crazy thoughts
Because it's where the meaning was
And I tried to find it every other way
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is getting better now
But always changing anyhow
But I can turn on the charm
Show them nothing more
Than what I've done before
It's nothing much new
But it'll do
Cause I don't wanna be the one who makes you laugh out loud
I wanna make you proud
And you always said you knew what I could be
So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
But always changing anyhow
Time
And the old me
Farewell to the old me
Farewell...
Monday, March 20, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Monday, March 13, 2006
everybody's sleeping
even with all their little eyes, all wide, and alive
pupils digging into mine
. . . . i dont know why im here, and i dont know how to tell anyone where i've been. i just know im gaining miles on myself and i . . .
there's a world of discontent in the smiles i deliver
no one knows the difference
between the poet and the 3 a/m angel
what about what love is and what about what love doesn't want to be
and there's a mythological creature out there
knowing they could call me at any hour
i wouldn't make them sleep alone
i've come from new york manipulations
and i've somehow became my own distraction
this whole place puts my puzzle out in the rain
~ march moon shadow
on a slippery sidewalk
walking alone~
i still dream of lace & long letters
dotted 'i's and underlining "truly"
jackson pollack found me in a bar on friday
in the sea of sweat and illumination
lights splattered over my face
he turned his palms to my hips
cradled my lust
one thrust a shiver
i could turn my head and smell him
paint thinner
and old spice
casual musk
the naive girls mingle near
every now and more so, again
his lips would rush my face
hurrying to lap up the sweat canaling to my breasts
heaving
heavy
nipples hard
against the coarse dress
without a bra to shield
if i wasn't in love
already
i would have made him
my muse
turn the clock back
to 1 and all the guitars sound out of tune
yet i know perfection when i hear it
me and the boys from up north
back floating on vodka and orange juice
singing loud the mountain songs
of brothers and sisters
we never met
a collection of random jump thru sheets of snipets i can recall one blink
at a time
pearl jam returns to the north east
and for that, i close my eyes...
'black' . . . tattoo all i see, all i am, all i'll be . . . so beautiful eddie.
a mattress on the floor
a dirty blanket
from weeks of pacific ocean sand
laying out beneath a starfull, planetscape
sky
your ceiling exploded with comet
and galaxies proposed in slumbers of dream
stroke your fingers
imagine escher in the constellations self-created
stairways and turnpikes
black and white
lines
a thousand zigzags capturing void
and crevice
we examine propped up on elbows to hit bowls
packed with downtown's finest
laughter gypsy van morrison kind of love
~
why can't i just talk to my grandfather one last time?
tell him everything i meant to say when he was dying but couldn't
because i couldn't cry then.
why was being loving to the dying so hard at 17? how selfish and regretted it is to not react in the way it is?
standing alone beside him at dawn. the last one to see him alive, and the first one to see him dead.
~
cadillac baby blue filled with birthday girls, and cigars . . . scream loud at passing cars, sing along to tom petty, and "you dont know how it feels . . . to be me" . . . the air in the car, rushing our faces, hair tangled on sweaty necks and fingers pinching joint, pass, happy 19, take my face in hands, small girl hands, and smile, pout out your bitten lips, "ooooh yeah, you wreck me baby. ."
~
i scroll and wonder what made me put this or that in. . . is it the high? or is it the caffeine?
is it loneliness?
the music . . .
8 weeks. dirty hands and worn out knees . . . i keep crawling back to you.
i just feel bored. and analytical of the processing i partake of all i've done and do . . .
~
may tuesday leave me quieter. or at least more sensical.
~ can i help it if i still dream time to time ~
.jacqueline.
even with all their little eyes, all wide, and alive
pupils digging into mine
. . . . i dont know why im here, and i dont know how to tell anyone where i've been. i just know im gaining miles on myself and i . . .
there's a world of discontent in the smiles i deliver
no one knows the difference
between the poet and the 3 a/m angel
what about what love is and what about what love doesn't want to be
and there's a mythological creature out there
knowing they could call me at any hour
i wouldn't make them sleep alone
i've come from new york manipulations
and i've somehow became my own distraction
this whole place puts my puzzle out in the rain
~ march moon shadow
on a slippery sidewalk
walking alone~
i still dream of lace & long letters
dotted 'i's and underlining "truly"
jackson pollack found me in a bar on friday
in the sea of sweat and illumination
lights splattered over my face
he turned his palms to my hips
cradled my lust
one thrust a shiver
i could turn my head and smell him
paint thinner
and old spice
casual musk
the naive girls mingle near
every now and more so, again
his lips would rush my face
hurrying to lap up the sweat canaling to my breasts
heaving
heavy
nipples hard
against the coarse dress
without a bra to shield
if i wasn't in love
already
i would have made him
my muse
turn the clock back
to 1 and all the guitars sound out of tune
yet i know perfection when i hear it
me and the boys from up north
back floating on vodka and orange juice
singing loud the mountain songs
of brothers and sisters
we never met
a collection of random jump thru sheets of snipets i can recall one blink
at a time
pearl jam returns to the north east
and for that, i close my eyes...
'black' . . . tattoo all i see, all i am, all i'll be . . . so beautiful eddie.
a mattress on the floor
a dirty blanket
from weeks of pacific ocean sand
laying out beneath a starfull, planetscape
sky
your ceiling exploded with comet
and galaxies proposed in slumbers of dream
stroke your fingers
imagine escher in the constellations self-created
stairways and turnpikes
black and white
lines
a thousand zigzags capturing void
and crevice
we examine propped up on elbows to hit bowls
packed with downtown's finest
laughter gypsy van morrison kind of love
~
why can't i just talk to my grandfather one last time?
tell him everything i meant to say when he was dying but couldn't
because i couldn't cry then.
why was being loving to the dying so hard at 17? how selfish and regretted it is to not react in the way it is?
standing alone beside him at dawn. the last one to see him alive, and the first one to see him dead.
~
cadillac baby blue filled with birthday girls, and cigars . . . scream loud at passing cars, sing along to tom petty, and "you dont know how it feels . . . to be me" . . . the air in the car, rushing our faces, hair tangled on sweaty necks and fingers pinching joint, pass, happy 19, take my face in hands, small girl hands, and smile, pout out your bitten lips, "ooooh yeah, you wreck me baby. ."
~
i scroll and wonder what made me put this or that in. . . is it the high? or is it the caffeine?
is it loneliness?
the music . . .
8 weeks. dirty hands and worn out knees . . . i keep crawling back to you.
i just feel bored. and analytical of the processing i partake of all i've done and do . . .
~
may tuesday leave me quieter. or at least more sensical.
~ can i help it if i still dream time to time ~
.jacqueline.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Hung.over.
the world hates me
or maybe it's my decision making
either way
something must be blamed for this horrendous ache.
thinking about the week - how beautiful it's been.
thinking of the weekend to come - how nice it will be to dance awhile with loved ones, to roadtrip to saratoga in a caravan and relax with beautiful folks some guitars and drums. .. .
i am feeling the spring surge. . . . separate.
the world hates me
or maybe it's my decision making
either way
something must be blamed for this horrendous ache.
thinking about the week - how beautiful it's been.
thinking of the weekend to come - how nice it will be to dance awhile with loved ones, to roadtrip to saratoga in a caravan and relax with beautiful folks some guitars and drums. .. .
i am feeling the spring surge. . . . separate.

